Your Stupid Excuse
by Zuvios Gemini
Summary: Reaper!Bones. Jim shows up at John's apartment late one night with some bad injuries, and John will not take excuses. He wants to know what happened. McKirk fluff. Rated for language.


A/N: Jeez what is up with all these little ficlet-oneshot-drabble thingys? O_O I blame boredom at work… that and the constant stream of fanfictions I read every day. Hahaha I can truly say I'm addicted. Have been for a while now. Years.

BUT I DIGRESS!

A little **Reaper!Bones/Kirk** fic that wouldn't leave me alone at work. :P You can expect more **Reaper!Bones/Kirk** and **Bones/Kirk** from me in the future.

Soundtrack: _The Beauty and the Tragedy _and _Shattered (long version) _by Trading Yesterday

o-o-o-o-o

With a groan, John Grimm shut the door to his dark apartment, not even bothering with the lights. The pressure behind his eyes was insane. He feared they would explode on his way home from the shift he had just finished at the Starfleet Clinic.

He made his way to the kitchen, shedding his layers as he went; first the coat, then his science blues, then the retarded black undershirt, which he hated with a passion, then his socks, and finally his black 'fleet reg pants, leaving him in his boxers.

He fetched his best bottle of bourbon and poured himself a tall glass. The 48-hour shift had done a number on him. He rubbed his beard. Clean-cut "Doctor McCoy" hadn't left himself any time to shave. He had too many people to take care of and too much paperwork to do to bother with it.

John sighed and sat down at his small dining room table. Despite the benefits of having a C24 enhanced body, it did nothing to keep him from getting exhausted and damn, if he wasn't exhausted.

He took another long drink from his almost empty cup and ran his fingers through his hair, making it messier than it already was. There were times that he missed his shorter hair from when he was in the Marines, but he figured that if he was going to be a doctor, he might as well look like one dammit.

He suddenly started chuckling, the sound echoing oddly in the silent apartment.

He was tired to all Hell, he needed to shave, he needed a shower, and he was drinking. Why did that remind him of the days before he was Leonard McCoy? Maybe because back in his RRTS days, that was an everyday occurrence.

With a grunt, he stood and headed for the shower. He let the hot water pour over his head, drowning in a sense. There was nothing he enjoyed more than just losing himself in his musings in the water. He turned the knobs off and exited the shower with every intent to shave when he heard faint knocking at the door.

With something akin to a growl, he wrapped a towel around his thin waist and padded to the door, picking up his bourbon glass on his way. He felt his eyebrow arching when he opened the door and saw who it was.

"H-hey Bones." Jim smiled weakly, noticing the state of dress his friend was in.

"God dammit Jim I just got off a 48-hour shift at the—" What would have been a full-blown rant halted when John saw the angle his friend's arm was hanging at, along with how he was holding his shoulder. If possible, John's eyebrow arched further.

"My God Jim what the hell did you do to yourself this time?" He said gruffly, although there was little anger in his voice. Jim made a face.

"It wasn't my fault." He insisted, wincing when his shoulder shifted. John sighed wearily. Jim never did have the gift of lying when it came to him.

"It never is, Jim." He said sarcastically. He moved aside to allow his Captain to enter.

"Take a seat." He said. It was a phrase Jim was well familiar with, and the blonde couldn't help but smile as he sat gingerly on the couch, wincing when he had to reposition his arm. He liked how Bones' heavy Southern accent came out when he said that. He had known Bones for a good seven years now, and he could easily list some phrases that brought out the true Southern Gentleman that was hiding beneath his friend's rough exterior. He prided himself on that.

Bones had disappeared into the backroom; grabbing a hypo no doubt. Jim frowned. Damn hypos…

John returned with a med kit in hand as Jim had predicted. He had a pair of sweat pants on now, although he had chosen to remain shirtless. Like he honestly gave a damn if Jim saw him shirtless. It was nothing he hadn't seen before.

"This is a mild pain killer." John loaded the hypo and went to press it to Jim's neck, but the blonde flinched away from it with a sheepish smile.

"Is that really necessary?" He said nervously. John leveled him with a stare.

"You want me to fix that arm without it?" He asked dryly. Jim thought about it then sighed. With his usual brashness, John shook his head and fired the hypo into Jim's neck, smirking at the look on his face.

"You really are such an infant sometimes." He chuckled. He put the hypo away, much to Jim's relief, and took out a tricorder.

"Well Jim it looks like you've managed to completely pull your arm out of the socket and dislocate your shoulder." He glared at the blonde as he put away the device.

"What the hell were you doing?" He growled. Again, Jim gave him a sheepish grin.

"I can't tell you…" He mumbled. Bones' glare darkened.

"Like hell you can't. I ain't fixin' shit for you until you tell me." He knew Jim was smiling at him because his accent was coming out, but he refused to be swayed by Jim's immaculate charm.

He felt 'Reaper' rising back to the surface, threatening to cut down whomever the hell dared to hurt Jim, and protocol be damned if he didn't go out and just start hitting people if Jim didn't tell him. The Captain must have picked up on the new hostility because he raked his fingers through his hair.

"Bones listen, normally I would tell you but…" He looked up and saw Bones still standing and glaring at him, arms crossed over his bare muscled chest, eyebrow cocked. Jim wilted a little under the stare.

"C'mon Bones don't look at me like that." The doctor didn't budge, settling instead for raising the other eyebrow in an 'I'll stop looking at you like this when you start talking' expression. Jim sighed again and scratched the back of his neck with his good arm.

"Fine. I'll tell you if you fix me." Bones barked out a laugh.

"I don't think so." He grunted, smirking at his friend.

Jim stared. Holy shit Bones was serious. He had only refused to treat him one other time, and that was because he had shown up with a few holes blown in him, and he really didn't want to tell the doctor what had happened.

Bones only refused to treat him if he really wanted to know what happened. Jim relented.

"Alright I'll tell you… but seriously Bones my shoulder really hurts." He said, fixing his ocean blue eyes on the doctor in a way that he knew the doctor couldn't say no to. John held his gaze for a moment before letting his arms drop with a sigh.

"Fine. But you're gonna tell me afterwards." He grumbled. He sat down next to Jim, gently prodding his arm.

"You feel that?" He asked. Jim shrugged.

"Not really. Like I don't feel the pain, I just feel the pressure of you touching me." He said. John nodded.

"Good that means the meds are working. But I'm warnin' ya, this is gonna hurt like a bitch regardless." He grasped Jim's bicep and put his other hand on his shoulder.

"On three, you take a deep breath and hold it." He instructed. Jim swallowed nervously and nodded.

"One… two… three." He shoved Jim's arm upwards in one swift movement. He felt the arm lodge itself back into place with a _crack_. The breath that Jim had taken came right back out in the form of a scream. He clenched his teeth, cutting it short, settling instead for pained noises and short, deep breaths through his nose.

"The pain will dull in a minute." John reassured as he massaged Jim's sore shoulder gently, being careful to not apply too much pressure. Jim's breathing eventually calmed down and John was pretty sure his shoulder was okay, so he stopped massaging the muscle and got up. He poured himself a new glass of bourbon and poured one for Jim as well.

"So," he said as he sat back down. "Start talking." He cocked an eyebrow as Jim purposely took a long drink.

He was stalling, he wasn't going to lie. Truth be told his explanation was completely ridiculous and he was sure he'd earn a solid ass-chewing for it… so he mumbled…

"'Beg your pardon?" Bones said, sarcastically putting his hand to his ear. "You're gonna have to speak up, I can't hear you." He said, his accent coming out thick again. Jim cracked a smile.

"You're gonna hate me for it." He sighed at the 'so-what' look Bones shot him. He braced himself and looked Bones in the eye.

"I went looking for a fight on purpose…" He did his best not to shrink away from the exasperated expression on John's face.

"And what in the hell d'ya do that for?" He almost yelled. This time Jim flinched slightly before staring down into the drink in his hands. He mumbled. John leaned forward.

"Sorry?" He said, pressing Jim further. Jim sighed again.

"I did it… so I could come see you…" He admitted. There. He said it. He waited for the explosion, but it didn't come. He glanced up to see Bones staring slack jawed at him.

"You went and got yourself hurt so you'd have a reason to come see me!" He finally managed to stutter out. His jaw dropped further when Jim nodded. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Jim, _his best friend_, was telling him that he needed an excuse to come and see him.

"Why in the fucking hell would you think you needed to— dammit Jim!" He finally snapped. He set down his glass (a little too forcefully he'd admit but), stood up and turned away from the blonde. He needed to calm his rising temper lest he lash out unintentionally at Jim.

Jim of course didn't know this, and took it as Bones being mad at him. He hung his head, kind of wishing that Bones would just hurry up and tell him to get out. God knows he didn't handle rejection well, and Bones knew it too.

"What made you think that?" John finally ground out although he was still facing away from Jim.

"I don't know… you were working… I knew you were busy. I didn't want to bother you." That made him turn around, giving Jim another wide-eyed stare.

"You honestly think that matters? Yea. I'm tired as fuck and I want to drink and sleep and not have to get up tomorrow to go _back_ to work, but all of that doesn't really matter because…" He stopped, not wanting to get ahead of himself. When he saw the hurt look on Jim's face, however he allowed himself to finish his sentence.

"It doesn't matter because… you're more important to me than all that. You matter more than the alcohol, and the sleep I desperately need, and the job I love and hate at the same time. You're the most important person in my life; most important _anything_ actually." He sat back down next to Jim, who still looked hurt, but it was more of a confused hurt than just outright pain.

"You don't need an excuse to come and see me. That's bullshit." He stated bluntly. Jim finally was able to cock his head at his friend.

"I'm important to you?"

John finally cracked a smile, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Yes Jim you're very important to me. And all this crap about having to have a reason to see me? I don't want to hear it ever again." He said, locking gazes with Jim. The blonde stared at him before smiling. It never ceased to amaze John how Jim could light up the room with that smile.

"Okay. I'm sorry Bones." The Captain said honestly. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to do.

John quirked an eyebrow when Jim leaned towards him. His other eyebrow shot up when he felt soft lips on his cheek, lingering for a moment before disappearing. He turned and stared at Jim, who was watching him carefully with bright blue eyes.

"Uhm…" Jim started, but he was cut short by the intense look in Bones' eyes. He felt his neck being grabbed and before he could even react he was dragged into a breathtaking kiss. When John pulled away he chuckled.

"Jesus kid you make it too hard to resist you sometimes." He smiled. Jim smiled back and ran a hand through his hair, shooting the doctor a look from underneath his lashes.

"Maybe I do it on purpose…" He said, testing the waters. John's eyes lit up and he was suddenly pulled against the doctor's strong chest. He breathed in deeply, relaxing instantly.

"Well you're welcome to keep doin' it. 'Cuz I like it." John drawled, rubbing little circles into his neck. He knew he would have to see his friend die eventually, but if he had a chance to show this man in his arms how much he really cared, then dammit he was gonna take it.

_**For I am finding out that love, may kill and save me…**_

In the dark apartment, two sets of matching breathing could be heard.

o-o-o-o-o

A/N: Aaannndddd that's it. It expanded beyond my original idea (as my fics tend to do haha). Review. :)

The lyrics in bold are from _The Beauty and the Tragedy _by Trading Yesterday.


End file.
